Deep beneath the surface of Yorktun, hidden in layers of abandoned infrastructure and cloaked with shielding tech to escape the Upbringers' surveillance, Paragus has constructed a lab. The air crackles with electricity and hums with energy. Every surface is covered in forbidden texts, encrypted blueprints, and relics from Yorktun's lost age of freedom. This hidden lab is where Paragus will finally defy the Upbringers in his most personal act of rebellion.

Paragus stands alone in the dim light, his face etched with lines of grief and rage, his hands shaking as he carefully adjusts the dials and switches of a strange machine. In the center of the room, a sphere glows faintly, cradling something that looks almost human. Paragus's face, usually hardened, is vulnerable and worn.

Paragus: (Whispering to himself) my boy... this world was supposed to be yours. They took that from you, but I'll make it right. I swear it.

His hand hovers over a button. With a deep breath, he presses it. Energy begins to surge through the lab, the air thickening as bolts of electricity spiral around the figure inside the sphere. Slowly, a shape forms—a young man with eyes that crackle with energy and curiosity, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Paragus's son.

The figure—Retsuki-Raigku—opens his eyes. There's a flash of lightning in his gaze, his body shimmering with barely-contained power. He blinks, absorbing his surroundings, and his gaze lands on Paragus.

Retsuki: (Softly, with confusion) Where... am I?

Paragus: (Swallowing hard) You're safe. You're... here because you're needed.

Retsuki studies him, tilting his head with an intense curiosity.

Retsuki: Needed? What... am I?

Paragus closes his eyes for a moment, steeling himself, the weight of what he's done sinking in.

Paragus: You are... a spark. A memory. A weapon. And a hope. I created you to be all these things, to embody everything that the Upbringers have tried to erase from this city. They took my son... my boy who had your face and your spirit. They took him because he dared to dream of freedom. Now you are here, Retsuki... to finish what they tried to snuff out.

Paragus moves to a small console, pressing a series of buttons. A screen flickers to life, displaying images and memories—the sounds of laughter in Yorktun's streets, glimpses of art, debates in old libraries, moments shared between father and son.

Paragus: (Voice cracking as he speaks) This was our Yorktun. A place where dreams flourished, where art and thought mattered. My son was a part of that dream, a boy with questions and courage. I've woven these memories into you, Retsuki, because they're all that remains.

Retsuki stares, transfixed, as he watches these fragments of a lost world—a world he's never known yet feels deeply connected to. His eyes glisten with an unspoken understanding.

Retsuki: (Softly) I can feel it... the loss, the rage. The desire to bring it back.

Paragus: (Nodding, voice intense) Yes. Hold onto that, Retsuki. They've made this city a tomb, silenced everything beautiful about it. You are the reminder that they can never erase all of us. You will be the thunder in their stormless sky.

Paragus reaches for a switch, connecting Retsuki to Yorktun's main grid. The room crackles with energy as Retsuki's body surges with unimaginable power. He gasps as he feels the pulse of electricity, his very essence fusing with Yorktun's dark, silent infrastructure.

Retsuki: (Eyes wide with wonder and terror) I... I can feel everything. The wires, the circuits—they're... they're alive!

The lights in the lab flicker erratically as Retsuki tests his newfound power. He extends a hand, and a bolt of lightning arcs through the room, crackling with intensity. Paragus watches with pride and a hint of fear.

Paragus: Your power is incredible, Retsuki. But it will drain you if you're not careful. Every pulse you send out takes something from you, just as every loss took something from us. You have to choose your battles carefully. This city needs you alive.

Paragus walks Retsuki to a small table, covered with maps, notes, and the stark images of Upbringer propaganda plastered all over Yorktun. Each poster displays phrases drilled into the populace: "Peace through Order," "Freedom is Obedience," and "Unity over Individuality." Paragus's hand trembles as he touches one of the posters, his fingers curling in anger.

Paragus: They're feeding lies to the people, making them believe that this silence is safety. That their oppression is peace. They've made us forget who we were. But you... you will remind them. You will tear down these symbols, one by one.

Retsuki nods, understanding the weight of the mission before him. His hands spark with energy, his gaze hardening.

Retsuki: I'll shatter their lies. I'll be the voice they can't silence.

Paragus: But remember, Retsuki—your power isn't just a weapon. It's a symbol. The people need more than anger. They need to believe that they can rise, that they're more than just shadows under the Upbringers' control. You're the fire in the dark, Retsuki. Be careful with it.

Paragus places a hand on Retsuki's shoulder, the weight of his loss and love reflected in his eyes.

Paragus: You are Retsuki-Raigku—lightning-born hope. The last spark of everything they couldn't kill. You carry his spirit within you, and you carry my defiance. You're my vengeance and my redemption. But above all, Retsuki, you are free.

Retsuki's gaze softens, feeling the intensity of Paragus's emotions and the burden he's placing on him.

Retsuki: (Nods solemnly) I understand, Father. I'll carry this weight. I'll be the storm they never saw coming.

Paragus's face crumples, the word "father" breaking through his hardened resolve. He pulls Retsuki into an embrace, clutching him as though he's afraid to let go.

Paragus: (Whispering, almost a plea) Don't let them take you too. Whatever you become out there... know that I'm with you.

Retsuki pulls back, looking at him one last time before stepping into the shadows of Yorktun, ready to face the silent city and awaken the people's forgotten rage.

Retsuki emerges onto the darkened streets, his figure barely visible, his body humming with restrained power. He raises his hands, feeling the pulse of the electric grid. Slowly, he channels his energy, and streetlights flicker to life one by one. He moves swiftly, tearing down the propaganda posters, leaving arcs of scorched electricity where the images of the Upbringers once hung. In the empty silence, whispers begin—frightened at first, then hopeful.

For the first time in years, Yorktun has heard a spark—a promise of change—and the thunder is just beginning.